


Stitches and Straw

by SassyLassy



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Character Death, M/M, Mentions of Murder, Violence, basically junkenstein monster au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 21:24:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9257924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SassyLassy/pseuds/SassyLassy
Summary: A story based around the Halloween Event Junkenstein's Revenge only a little bit more exploration into the history of the good doctor, his monster, and what becomes of them once they fall to the four heroes who are defending the castle from their siege.





	1. Chapter 1

The lightning illuminated the dark, cloudy skies, for but a moment turning the pitch black night into a brilliant brightness that almost blinded any unfortunate to gaze upon it for but that one, striking moment. The rain was falling, dousing the world beneath, turning stones slippery, watering the plants, and despite what people claimed did little to affect electrical devices left out in the rain.

Should it matter that the electricity was coursing through zomnic monsters? Those that had been made in secret within a castle that stood overlooking a small, humble kingdom in Germany, made by the hands of one Doctor Jamison Junkenstein. How he'd come to know the secret of eternal life was a mystery to the simple minded people of the kingdom, while many were superstitious few would dare to dream that the Witch of the Woods had gifted him with such a secret.

All for a simple fee, of course. Nothing big… Something the good doctor would never miss.

Just his soul.

And what had been worth the cost of his soul, his passage into God's great Heaven that awaited all when their lives ended? Nothing short of perfection. His monster, the creature he had slaved over for what felt like a lifetime. What a sight he was, tall, strong, flesh held together by metal and stitches. And when he had rebelled, refusing to be one to take orders, the doctor had been beyond happy.

No, nobody would own him. None would control him. He was his own creation now and as he watched him unleash an assault upon the kingdom that had belittled and besmirched his good name Dr Junkenstein had laughed.

"Your little creation has captured more attention than we anticipated." the Witches voice snapped him out of his day dreams as he watched from his castles window. Head turning, wild eyes gazed upon the beautiful woman who hovered upon her broomstick. Even if it was raining, she had not a drop of water on her; such was the power of her Witchcraft. "The good Lord has called out for heroes to help defend him from your creations, doctor. Four in total."

"What??" he asked, adjusting the goggles that covered his eyes. "Who?? Who are these people, getting involved in business that ain't theirs!"

"A soldier, an archer, an alchemist and.... an American." she pulled a face at the mention of the last.

Dr Junkenstein convulsed at the idea of an American being here. Of course there was one here, in the depths of Europe, naturally so there'd be a wandering American looking to be a hero. And now he'd found a cause, hadn't he?

"I know one of them," she continued as she gazed downwards upon the town. "The alchemist and I have fought in the past. Old as she is, she is skilled in her craft. Yet declares her alchemy is stronger than my magic. Foolish old woman." the Witch glanced at the doctor. "The four of them may be more than their worth. What will you do, doctor?"

He chewed his bottom lip before his face erupted into a delighted grin. "The fail to know how many of my zomnics I've got, 'n what they're capable of. And you, my dear, imagine crushin' that old woman beneath your heal to show her who is the best! Imagine it, all of us, my beautiful creation, myself, you and your henchman helping the world by wiping out this miserable little town!" Dr Junkenstein laughed hysterically, hobbling on his peg leg into the depths of his laboratory, past the broken table where his creation had finally been given life. "We'll show all of them!"

~*~

"Feels like there's no end to them." the soldier grumbled as he took a knee behind some chest high walling, reloading his weapon. "They just keep coming. Whatever it is this Lord did to this doctor, I hope it's worth all this."

"When you are blinded with a want of revenge, you see little else." the archer from the East meditated as he drew his arrow back and sent it flying, watching as it lodged itself in the head of one of the zomnics which promptly fell to the ground. 

The alchemist was crouching, mixing a quick herb together with a liquid concoction and rubbed some of it into the arm of the American, since he'd gotten to close to one of the zomnics that could hurl balls of blue fire. "Whatever it is, we have our duty. We will keep the lord safe."

"Even if he's a big ole' bag of hot wind." the American snorted, hissing at the ointment as it touched his flesh. "Thanks, darlin'."

"Always a charmer." she chortles, patting his head before lifting her own weapon and for the third time that night, the group tackled the wave of monsters that were seemingly dead set on destroying the castle door and getting in. The group knew little of the dispute between the Lord and the doctor; why would they? None were from around here. It was more like an unlucky circumstance that brought them all here, on this one night, to defend not only a castle but a whole town from destruction.

The ground shook suddenly, for Junkenstein's monster had finally found his way from terrorizing the locals, to the large door that led to the castle. Once again the skies lit up and there he stood. Over seven feet tall, made of muscle, fat, and green flesh and his true face hidden with a mask that was very much pig like. The sight of him had the group of four feel the first real rush of terror that night.

He roared loudly before he threw himself at the group, uncaring of the feud between his creator and the Lord. All he cared about was carnage. To spread wanton destruction. To be the monster he was, what he always had been.

~*~

He'd always been a monster. Even when he was human, and living as a woodsman in the woods, he had been a monster. The giant of a man who barely spoke a word to anyone, ever. The man who would come to town to sell his wood. The man who would smile at men in ways that only men would smile at ladies. A lumbering oaf. Too stupid, some claimed. A dumb, mute monster from the woods.

Had he known kindness? 

He had no memory but maybe there had been. Death does one to people's memories. It wipes so much away. Almost all of it was lost and gone to time as the monster roared and swung his giant hands that could crush a simple man's head as if it were a grape. Such large hands had, indeed, held someone in them once. A smaller, young man. A man with blond hair, who had a loud laugh but had been kind to him. 

“Cute.” a simple word of affection, of love, as a thumb stroked down a forgotten mans’ face. A tender embrace. The warmth of love.  
His name was gone. His face was gone, as well. 

The monster roared for the loss of his humanity. The loss of who he'd been. Who he could have been if angry men had not come? His death had not been kind. It was cruel, and the last flickering memory of his last thought was a want for breath. How wet and dark it was, and how he was drowning. While the good doctor had indeed brought this monster back to life, he had been long since considered one in his past life.

He was just living up to it now.

~*~

The Reaper was a terrifying sight. Those who see him were said to be cursed by the sight of him alone. Long since had the tales of his life as a man of the village had been lost, forgotten as easily as the monsters memories. He had become twisted, a headless man who owed servitude to the Witch who had saved him. She gave him powers beyond that of mortal men. The ability to move like a shadow and to strike from the darkness, and have his victims know true fear.

While he had, indeed, lost his head in death his memories had not died. They festered and boiled like something left to rot. He knew the alchemist; she had been a friend, once. But her indifference to his suffering had turned him on her, and as he swooped down with the might of the monster made by the Doctor he singled her out most than any other. 

His pumpkin head was riddled with bullet holes, and arrows lodged into the thick rind, when at last he was doused with something that burned. It sapped his energy, stole his life force, and he fell to little more than dust and loosened clothing as the alchemist watched him drop. She stood, shaken, her one good eye felt wet for she remembered. She knew. Why else would he have come at her so vehemently?

All while the monster had been attacking, being kept at bay by arrows and bullets, he was unaware of how the Witch’s henchman had finally fallen. He roared as an explosion hit him in the face and he finally staggered. He fell to a knee, groaning in agony, as all of a sudden explosions began to rain down. For across the way of the castle, over the bridge, stood the doctor.

His bombs flew through the air, exploding on impact, damaging the door and walls, the splash damage from the small explosions doing little to help the four defenders who were beginning to show their wariness. They could only last a bit longer. They had finally thought they were about to bring the monster down entirely when his creator appeared. Mad with power and revenge, the good doctor laughed continuously as he threw his bombs with a glee one could compare to that of a child.

"Keep it together!" the soldier shouted as he aimed for the zomnics who threw the burning fire. Aiming for the doctor was too difficult for him, he was too far away. 

The archer however, such a distant, moving target was not a challenge. For he had grown up in a land far from here, in a distant land to the East, at the base of a mountain. There, cherry trees would blossom and the leaves would fall. He had spent endless hours aiming and trying to pin the leaves with his arrows. Though thoughts of home gave him a sense of bitter sweetness, he would never forget, nor regret, his home. 

He wouldn't have these skills if he'd been born anywhere else. He took careful aim, drawing back his feathered weapons, and let them fly across the skies. 

~*~

The Witch watched from the shadows, for a smart Witch always knew to keep herself safe from such violent, uncouth wars. And while the words of the doctor had thrilled her, she had still chosen to sit back. From here she watched her dear Reaper die (but this was his 10th death, it would not last), and when that arrow lodged itself right between the eyes of the doctor she watched him fall to the cold cobblestones below. His bombs erupted as they landed with him. His face was stuck in that crazed, maniacal smile of his, even in death.

And the beast? The monster that had cost the doctor his soul? He had rampaged for as long as he could before he too finally succumbed. Had she seen sadness, for but a moment, in the monsters' eyes as he had seen the body of his creator? She didn't know. 

All she knew that now was the time to get scarce. Her Reaper would return to her as he always did, for she would not allow him to die so easily. 

The doctor, though... she would be back. The woman was not done with him just yet.

[ To be Continued]


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What comes after death for Dr Jamison Junkenstein? Not a shining white corridor or the warm embrace of family long since lost. The Witch took his soul and she's not done with him, and she holds him close to his agreement with her. Whether or not this was the best course of action is yet to be seen.

"Just what in tarnation IS it though?" the American gunslinger asked as he stared down at the fallen, massive, form of the beast. He reached down, comparing the size of his own hand with the monsters. "Shoot, the big fella could crush our heads like grapes!"

"He is an abomination." the alchemist said as she knelt beside him, touching his face, or really the pig mask. "He was a man once, I think. But the doctor twisted him into something worse."

"Pathetic." the archer scoffed, looking out upon the battlefield. The torn remains of zomnics, and monsters alike, being drenched in the rain. All sins of men and monsters being washed away. How poetic.

Still, the soldier was tempted to remove that pig mask. What kind of a face would they find? Or was that his face, twisted and ugly? The curiosity was strong, and has just reaching his hand down when the alchemist grabbed his wrist. Turning his head he met her single gaze, but instead of being chastising, she looked terrified. He followed the gaze of her eye and saw it.

Where the Reaper had fallen, was now empty.

He was gone.

The archer had approached the body of the doctor, and looked down his nose at the fallen man. His face frozen in a smile, eyes wide and gazing, it looked as though he would erupt back to his feet in seconds... if not for the arrow between the eyes. Face doused in blood, his white lab coat destroyed, he was the very image of a broken, destroyed man.

"Sad." he says, quietly, feeling prompted to close the man’s eyes but did not wish to disturb the goggles upon his face. 

"Come on." the soldier said as he stood, "We need to report all this to the Lord."

Tired and exhausted, the party of four made their way in through the wooden doors they had spent hours protecting. It was all standard procedure, to give a report to those hiding in the castle, leaving all outside. However it was clear none had worked with someone like the Witch before. Since when they returned with the guards, and some citizens of the town, not only was the Reaper missing but now the body of the doctor and his monster both were gone.

~*~

He was laughing. The sun was shining, the clouds were clear, and his arms were strong and sure around him. The air was mixed with the sounds of their laughter, before it melted into soft hums as kisses were exchanged.   
Jamison felt warm. He felt safe. But most of all he felt loved.

"Where'd you get off, being so gorgeous?" he had asked.

"Luck." was the answer by the woodsman, whose low chuckle had Jamison tremble at the tone of it. “Cute.” once again, that touch, a large, rough thumb being as gentle and soft as it possibly could be as it stroked down his cheek to his jaw.

They were swiftly kissing again, and Jamison could never feel this amount of pure bliss again.

Nor would he.

~*~

"Ah, gutten morgan!" the bright, soft voice spoke out of the darkness. "I was wondering how long it would take you to wake up. One does not so easily get over an arrow to the head, after all!"

The world was a thick black haze for a while, at least until it finally began to come into focus. There was an orange tint over everything, which earned a confused grunt which was directed at the world at large. He instinctively tried to stand, but found the act doing so incredibly difficult. His limbs were weak, wobbly, and seeing how one leg was nothing but a long piece of wood didn't help and he went tumbling to the ground.

Straw littered the floor.

"Easy now." the Witch smiled, "You have been dead for quite a while now."

A confused noise, and she watched as the sack mask that hid his face wobbled. Yet despite it, those 'eyes' focused on her as best they could. His grin, drawn back, glowing like his eyes, remained unchanged. 

"Well, do I get a thank you?" she asked, putting her hands on her hips. "Not only do I bring you back from death, but I help hide your face too. Now nobody will recognize you and instantly try to kill you again! You're welcome." the Witch smiles, nodding her head.

"...who?" the scarecrow like creature asked. "Who are.. you?"

Her face falls. "Oh." she hadn't counted on this. Of course an arrow to the brain would mess up his memories, if not death itself. "Do you remember who you are?" she asks, a slow smile beginning to slowly creep onto her face. "Your name? Your legacy? Your creations? Nothing rings a bell?"

"Nngh..." the creature twitched involuntary, its eyes wobbling on the sack head. He was trying to remember, clearly. But all he saw in his memory was blackness. A never ending sea of darkness that offered no lights, no memories. "No!" he answered, somehow finding the comedy in this, and gave a laugh.

Well that was his laugh, the Witch knew it anywhere. So while the man, Dr Junkenstein, was apparently dead and gone his laughter lived on. How iconic. She chortled to herself, turning her head a way, blocking her face with her hand. "How amusing. To lose everything."

"Hey," he spoke, tugging a gloved hand against her dress, "What's my name?"

A fair question. She couldn't tell him that it was Jamison Junkenstein, for that man was dead. This thing left over was not him. So he needed a name. She observed him, in the new disguise, the new clothes, and a word sprung in her name. "Hayseed. Your name is Hayseed."

"Hayseed." he echoed the name, before he giggled once again, and once more tried to push himself to his feet. His shoeless foot slipped against the cold floor but, with a grunt, he remains standing though he's unbalanced now. And he looks like he’s a few seconds away from falling over entirely. "I'm Hayseed!"

~*~

Never get a pet, unless you're willing to take good care of it because a pet is for life not just for a week. Isn't that how the saying goes? Or something like it. The Witch couldn't exactly recall completely, but months after reviving the shattered form of the good doctor she realized maybe leaving him dead would have been the best option.

It was cute, at first. The way he would trip over his own feet, laugh at things only he seemed to hear, and make a fool of himself in general. It was funny. At first...

Now, whenever he tried to help her without being asked something most likely would end up smashed to pieces. If she knew any better, she felt as though he was doing it on purpose. But he was far too stupid to be doing anything so foolish deliberately, surely.

"No, put that down. Hayseed, no, NO."

Her warning came too late, and the concoction he had somehow gotten his mismatched hands on was soon shattered and spilled on the floor. Smoke slowly rose from the floor where the liquid dribbled, ruined, wasted, lost.  
She stares down at the mess, her eyes wide with anger, before her gaze went to Hayseed who was still sprawled out on the ground, arms out stretched. "That potion took me half a year to prepare. I had to wait for a flower to bloom by the blood moon. I needed the skull of a stillborn. Do you realize... how much time, went into that?" she asked, each word steadily increasing with intensity with every syllable she spoke.

Her answer was an uncomfortable giggle, and Hayseed knelt before her. Not grovelling. Not praying. Giggling. "Oops, dropped something." he said.

"OUT."

The Reaper had just been returning to the castle after picking himself a nice fresh pumpkin to carve into his next head when he heard the eruption of power and lightning from within the castle. He stepped back, holding his fresh head in his hands, when Hayseed was forcibly removed from the property. The scarecrow like creature made a loud shout as he flew, and the sound of him hitting the ground would make a regular man wince.

Reaper just watched this broken, beaten, stitched together creature lay on the ground in a tumble of limbs. 

But slowly Hayseed pulled himself back together. Bones re-aligned. Stitches re-stitched. And soon he was sitting there as if he hadn't just been thrown from the top floor of a castle at all. He was on his feet, well, foot and peg leg, seconds later and toddling his way back towards the door.

"No."

Reapers arm came down in front of him. The scarecrows glowing eyes flickered as if he were blinking, and swivelled on the head until they were gazing at the headless man standing before him. Just how someone without eyes could make eye contact with someone who, equally, had no visible eyes was a mystery but somehow it was achieved.

"She doesn't want you here." Reaper said, evenly. "Go. And don't come back."

"Oh."

If Hayseed was upset, it didn't show. Maybe he thought the Witch didn't want him back soon? Maybe he thought he would be forgiven in a few short hours. Regardless of how his broken mind worked, the scarecrow, the once-great Doctor, turned and trundled off into the woods.

"Good thing wolves don't eat straw." Reaper mused to himself before vanishing back inside to no doubt clean up after Hayseeds mess, but also to calm the storm and fury that was his mistress.

~*~

The woods were the sorts that stories were spoken of. They were old, ancient, a magic and power that filtered through the roots that made the woods seem far darker than they truly were. If a man were to get lost in them he would most likely never be seen again. Not just because of the Witch and her Reaper, but other magical things that lived within the darkness. Fairies would lead one astray. Vampires sought out a quick meal out of a wandering traveller. Bogs would latch onto limbs and suck a person into their depths. And not to mention the rodents of unusual sizes that would lunge onto anyone they had the opportunity to.

And in the thick of it all, a lone Hayseed wandered. 

The fairies had attempted to lead him astray but his attention never stayed stuck on them as long as they would with a human, or a child. If anything he ended up leading them astray, and got one of them all but lost in their own woods. The vampires sniffed him out, but his blood was useless to them. Clotted and thick, not warm and delicious like a living man. Bogs would attempt to latch onto his leg, or his peg leg, yet somehow he would stumble free as if he were an escape artist. And the rodents of unusual size found the way he carried himself through the trees and bushes almost humorous. They squeaked to one another, giggling in their ratty way, as they watched him.

Glowing eyes lit the way for Hayseed, and they led him through the darkness that would send a saner man insane. Those sounds of the woods, the screeches, groaning woods, and mysterious howls had little to no effect on his simple mind as he trundled along as if he'd been set a task. But was he given a task? He was told to 'go'. So that's what he was doing. He was going as hard as he could, even with everything so far trying to either trip him up, ensnare him, or kill him.

Or just squeak at him in amusement.

But little did Hayseed know but there was one last threat in the darkness. A threat so renowned that the people of the town warned one another of him. Mothers would warn their children if they did not eat their greens, or go to bed at a suitable time, the monster from the woods would emerge and tear them from their beds. They would be taken to the woods and never seen again. Stories of a hook that could snake around corners, through windows, doors, even floors, that would latch onto them and pull them away like a caught fish on a fisher mans’ line. 

How would he know stories of such a monster? The Witch had not been exactly the type to sit him down and read him a story or two, much less tell him one. Even if she had, would he have the brain knowledge to be afraid of such a thing? Would he know that he had been the one to create such a being in a life that had been lost? Chances were, unfortunately, low. 

The time of day did not matter. If the sun was out and shining it could not penetrate the canopy which the trees provided. Their branches thick, their leaves thicker still, so barely a few shafts of light were able to just squeeze through to pierce the darkness. What shadows took up residence in the woods felt thicker than normal, casting eternal darkness through the woods and leaves, feeling heavier and thicker whenever a heavy footstep would carry a beast of over seven feet through the undergrowth.

He moved slowly, as he always did. After all, he was in no rush. He never was. Ever since awakening on the cobblestones among broken bodies of robots and people alike, he had found his footing and ran. The anger that had run through his veins like the electricity and blood in his system seemed to have dispersed for a moment. He was injured. Pieces were hanging off. Arrows jutted from his body. And his body was a temple and he had to tend to it and he knew if those four found him again he would, once again, fall to their might. An insult, more than anything else. Anger wanted him to stay and fight but, for the first time since his awakening, common sense took over.

It was in this darkness that the monster with the pigs face saw something flickering in the darkness. Now, animals in these woods had glowing eyes. But never did they shine as brightly as this one. On top of that, it was positioned high above the ground. Either the rodents of unusual size had begun to stack themselves, or one of them had been born far larger than the usual, unusual size. The yellow glowing eyes swivelled in the darkness as if they were on pivots, until they locked on him. They stumbled forward, accompanied by excited giggling though it came out muffled for a reason the monster would soon come to see why.

"Wow you're big!" Hayseed complimented as he gazed up at the towering creature of shadow, beady eyes, and stitched skin. "Are you lost, is that why you're out here?" he asked, excitedly.

The monster said nothing.

"I'm out here 'cuz she told me to go so I'm going. It's pretty dark around here, though, I can't see the nose in front of my face! Probably cuz I ain't got one!" this caused Hayseed to break into hysterical giggles at his joke, clutching at his sides with his metallic and gloved hands as he did. 

Clearly he was a master of comedy.

Again the monster said nothing.

Hayseed didn't notice. He hobbled along to the towering monster, the grin on his mask eternally reflecting the one hidden underneath. "C'mon big guy, ya got a name?"

"...no."

"I'm Hayseed!" Hayseed introduced himself, "Got me name from... from.... cor what was her name again?" he could not remember. Had she ever said her name? The blond woman, with the broom. Shoot. He had an awful memory. "Ah whatever. C'mon Big Guy, where you off to?"

His answer was some shrugged shoulders. The monster didn't exactly have a schedule, much less a plan. Since his recovery from the attacks he had kept to the shadows, now and then scaring any woodsman who would come along through the darkened trees to teach him a lesson for trespassing on his property but that was it. He did not eat. He barely slept. He just functioned, but also felt that little bit more active after thunderstorms. Probably because of the electricity conductors sticking out of his back.

Hayseed made a face though you could not tell by looking at the glowing, eternally grinning mug of his. "Well follow me!"

And off he went through the undergrowth, glowing eyes lighting the way.

Now, the monster, by all rights could have just stayed put. He could have wandered away. Why would he want to follow something so loud that it disturbed the silence of the woods? Perhaps it was morbid curiosity. Maybe he wanted to be there when something from the darkness would ensnare the glowing, yappy thing and silence him. Whatever the reason, the Monster felt himself falling into step behind the hobbling straw man who appeared to leave a trail of straw wherever he went.

So there went the hobbling scarecrow, followed by a monster that by all rights had no business in being alive. Much like the scarecrow, to be totally honest.

Yet despite the odds here they were, functioning, surviving, and united.

[To be Continued]


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The monsters have been together for a while now, making mischief, causing mayhem, but something gives the monster pause when they happen upon a cabin in the woods.

The corn rows rustled in the evening sun, wind gently passing overhead as it kicked up plumes of dust into the sky. Overhead, a crow cawed out and it echoed across the farm. Long shadows stretched out across the farm, and the man who made his way through the fields of corn to make sure his livelihood was still in the best condition hummed softly to himself. The wind turned colder suddenly, making him shiver and he wrapped his arms around himself for a moment in an attempt to warm himself without turning around and going back home to fetch a jacket, or scarf. He had a long way to go, to ensure his crops weren't being assaulted by birds, or bugs. He prided himself on his corn, after all.

It's at this point he passes the scarecrow. It's hanging off its pole, unfocused eyes pointed in different directions. The wind ruffled the straw sticking out of the back of its head, and its permanent smiling face staring out at the world without worries. He thought nothing of it until a minute or so later a little idea nibbled at the back of his head and his feet came to a stop.

He did not own a scarecrow that looked like that.

All of his scarecrows had painted on faces, floppy hats, and had no hands or feet at all. But that one, its eyes had been glowing. Its mouth stitched and held in place, and it too had glowed like something out of a nightmare. He moved, quickly, making his way back to where he'd seen the vision but it was gone. It, and the pole, had left no traces of their existence. Now he felt on edge, panic was nibbling at his insides, kicking up a heat in his belly that made him all the more anxious.

He heard footsteps. Normally his mind would jump to the idea of the local children playing tricks, but now he was on edge. Sweat trickled at his temple, and he swallowed his Adams apple nervously, trying to listen out for where the footsteps came from because not only were they unnerving but they did not match the look of the scarecrow he had just seen. These footsteps were heavy, indicating a very large person was walking. And hadn't that scarecrow been missing a leg, AND arm?

He rounded another corner in the maze of corn stalks, their height and colours having once brought comfort and pride now brought fear and panic. It was impossible for him to see anyone, if they were nearby. And those footsteps. Distant as they seemed, he was still on edge. Which only got worse when he heard the laughter. It was high and giddy, and closing in.

And suddenly he turned a sharp corner and came face to face with the monster. The very same monster who had attacked the town all those months back. Who had come from the shadows and vanished just as mysteriously. It towered over him, taller than the corn it seemed, arms out stretched, eyes glowing behind the green skin and its hideous mouth opened and it roared.

"Ya got 'im!!" Hayseed gleefully squealed as he leaped out from behind some corn, arms stuck behind him, still wrapped up in the pole he'd been propped up on. He laughed hysterically as he hopped around the unconscious man, while the monster stood there in his usual silence at the scene.

Why had they done this again? For fun, Hayseed had stated. Neither needed to eat, both being undead creatures who did not need the pleasures of the flesh in order to survive. They certainly didn't need this corn, which most would most likely try to steal to get a free meal or several from the farmer. No, stalking and scaring him had been for fun and while a part of the monster did enjoy a good scream from a victim, the fact he wasn't ripping him to pieces afterwards left him feeling lacking.

But Hayseed had been against the violent part of the monsters persuasion. The scarecrow had literally screamed himself mute the first time they'd encountered strangers in their woods, and the monster had almost bludgeoned the traveller to death with his own fists. It had scared the scarecrow and, somehow, that made the monster uneasy. He was fine seeing people scared, seeing their faces twist and contort with horror. But seeing and hearing the fear from Hayseed had him pause, to reconsider his actions and that confused him.

Reaching down, the monster tugged the ropes that tied Hayseeds hands free, and the scarecrow gave a thankful wiggle and giggle before swiftly climbing the monsters back to hang off of the tesla coils that stuck out of his back. He pointed a gloved hand towards the woods for a moment but then he paused. In all their time together, the two had never come this close to the town before. He could just see the distant roof tops, the church steeple, and if he listened hard enough he could almost hear talking, laughter. 

"Oi oi Hoggy Hoggy," a name that Hayseed had adopted for the monster due to his pig face, "Can we go? Can we?"

"No." ah, one of the monsters favourite words. No.

"Why not?" Hayseed asked, wrapping his legs around the monsters neck, but not to injure him just so he could sit on his shoulders more comfortably.

Already the monster, Hoggy, was turning away from the distant town and began to head back towards the woods. He wanted to be out of sight before the farmer awoke. "Dangerous. Not safe for you." which was true. Hayseed could fall to pieces easily enough, if anyone was rough with him he may loose more limbs than necessary. While the monster could go into town, wreck some havoc and chaos, he chose not to. The last time... his creator had died. He had died, too. But the powerful magic that had brought him back the first time kept bringing him back regardless. To be honest, death was not fun. The endless void of darkness with no emotion, heat, nothing. Coming back from it was just as unfun too. A sudden surge of feelings both physical and emotional, a burst of bright light and sharpness in his chest... not fun.

Hayseed was complaining and grumbling, but beyond that he was more or less quiet. Which was nice, since Hayseed was a very vocal, loud monster. But for now he was quiet, maybe because he was content and happy since he'd been able to spook that man a little. It was the little things that made Hayseed happy. A large hand on his head, laughing at seemingly nothing, and even though the two didn't need to sleep really he seemingly really liked curling himself over Hoggy's stomach as the two 'slept'. 

Whatever made him happy, and quiet, was a good thing in the monsters non-existent book. 

The woods enclosed them once more, shadows enveloping them like welcoming friends, and Hayseeds glowing eyes lit the way for the two so Hoggy wouldn't go stumbling and tripping over things. Good as his eyes were, they weren't built to see in the dark not like Hayseed who could light up the darkest places with a look of his glowing red eyes. It was comforting. He didn't want to focus on how many times he had indeed tripped over logs and things in the woods before encountering the scarecrow monster. 

Now these woods were very vast and even though the two monsters had been making their way through it for the past few weeks, and they hadn't been everywhere in the woods, not at all. So when the two of them stumbled upon something new they slowed down. Well, Hoggy slowed down since Hayseed was still sitting on his shoulders. The two stood in what once would have been a lovely little opening in the woods; but overgrown grass and weeds had once more claimed it. Not only that, but the shack that was partly obscured by regrowing trees. It was a wood cabin, seemingly hand done doing by the look of the logs used to build it. Had this clearing been made by the trees being lopped down to make this home?

The monster stood there, staring at the wooden shack in silence. Something about it felt familiar, like seeing a face of a person he knew but that was foolish because he knew nobody but Hayseed. Yet still the house seemed to now call to him, a name he couldn't recall, but the calling was strong enough that he walked towards it more. Reaching out he placed a hand against the wall of the dilapidated house, brushing his green fingers against the old, dusty bark. Walking along the house his hand trailed along the wood, the calling of a name becoming stronger, so much so it even drowned out Hayseeds questions about what he was doing.

Reaching the door, which was hanging off of its hinges, the monster paused at last and stared into the darkened house. Inside were belongings, though they had been reclaimed by nature. Weeds, grass, flowers, and he was certain he saw a few lizards and snakes in the darkness too. An upturned table. A bed whose mattress had been torn apart by birds for nest materials. Bowls and cutlery. It was a literal mess of what was once a home.

Someone's' home.

_"I can't believe you live all the way out here," Dr Junkenstein had said as he'd applied the dressing to the man's arm. "If you lived closer, I wouldn't have to make these insane house calls!" he laughed, a giddy little thing that seemingly wouldn't suit a doctor like himself._

_"Hmm." the woodsman silently touched his arm, a small smile on his face as he looked to the doctor. "Always appreciated."_

_"Well!" he tugged his gloves free of his hands. Well, hand. One was mechanical. "What kind of doctor turns his back on one of his only patients who pays? So many try to pay with chickens, corn, or pigs!"_

_"Pigs are noble beasts."_

_"You think too highly of them Mako." Dr Junkenstein snorted, "They're nothing more than leather and pork to eat."_

_Mako, the large woodsman who was as tall as the trees he felled, shrugged his massive shoulders in silence. He then reaches a large hand forward, very slowly placing it to the small of the doctors back. The shorter, but still equally tall, man's pale face turned a soft pinkish hue. Regardless of the two being alone in this cabin in the woods, he had to glance around for a moment. Just to be doubly sure nobody was lurking, waiting for such a moment to swoop and catch them. Mako's other hand pressed itself against his face, and he pressed it against the large, rough palm._

_"Cute." Mako whispered before quietly closing the space between them and--_

"HOGGY!"

The monster blinked and whatever that was, was gone. He turned his head left, right, then upwards to see Hayseed peering down upon him as he still sat on his shoulders. Even if Hayseeds face had no discernable features to show emotions, he got he strong indication the scarecrow was worried, if not scared. Perhaps he was frowning. It felt like he was. 

"You was standing staring at nothing, 'n saying stuff to nobody! Pigs are noble beasts??" Hayseed tilted his head like a confused pup.

"...they are." Hoggy replied, reaching a hand up to touch his face. The pig face, that was not truly his. Like Hayseed, he too wore a mask. It hid his true face, what was left of it. He had only seen the reflection of it once, in a rippling lake under moonlight but it was enough for him to realize his face was not like the normal man's faces. It was hideously ugly, scarred, and his nose was missing leaving nothing but a gaping hole where his nose had once been. He wondered, quietly, if Hayseeds face was scarred under his own mask too. He knew better than to ask.

"C'mon!" the scarecrow finally leaped down onto the uneven wooden ground, bounding around for a moment, scoping out the little house and paid no attention when something shattered under his peg leg. "This place is boring Hoggy, let's move!"

Again the monster nodded, and he waited for Hayseed to exit the forgotten cabin. He hesitated for a moment, looking back into the still seemingly familiar setting before turning and lumbering after the shorter, masked monster. Unaware what now lay shattered on the floor beneath grass and weeds.

An old photo frame of two men, posing by a backdrop. One was Dr Jamison Junkenstein, young, clean faced. Standing besides him, well, more behind him, was Mako. A towering man of muscle and fat with dark black hair, kind eyes but an ugly face. They were smiling.

They were happy.

[To be Continued]


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey we're back after a small hiatus due to work and life and other such things.
> 
> In this chapter, the Monster learns a startling truth about his good friend Hayseed.

Rain, why did it have to be rain? Hayseed hated the rain, genuinely hated with every burning strand of straw in his body. It made him soggy and floppy and movement became difficult. For such an active little guy as him, being stuck in one place until the rain stopped was not his idea of a good time. Here he sat in an old hollowed out tree that had long since burned empty by a fire years ago, arms folded childishly over his bent knees as his glowing eyes peered at the world outside.

Besides him was Hoggy. He didn't seem too effected by the rain, if anything he got incredibly quiet (even more so than normal) whenever it rained. Here he sat in the empty tree besidese Hayseed, eyes shut, his breathing soft and shallow. But even in this silence, Hayseed could get a sense that he weas uncomfortable.

"I hate the rain." Hayseed said for the tenth time. 

"Hmm."

"Stupid soggy wet rain." he continued, "No fun in the rain. All muddy 'n slippery and blah." 

A heavy hand landed on his head, and gave a firm squeeze. "Shhhhhh. Listen."

Very rare was it for Hayseed to fall silent when told to but there was something, an edge, to Hoggy's voice that had him go instantly quiet. Beyond the tree, he could hear the rain. It pitter pattered on the bark and leaves, the ground squelched beneath the wetness, and in the far distance a bird sung a song as it rained. There was a gentle silence to the rain, cool as the weather was it felt warm and inviting.

Despite this, it made Hayseed on edge. He remembered rain, but only just. It had hurt. There was shouting, distant explosions, and voices he didn't know. The pain was back, a numb, distant pain to his head so he lifted both gloved hands and pressed them to his head as he bent forward, curving, hiding himself in his knees.

His movement had the monster turn his head, and look down at him. Hayseed was now gently rocking, making small, mumbly noises of someone who was not enjoying this rain at all. He stared, vacantly, before his arm moved of its own accord and he reached over and wrapped it around the smaller monsters shoulders and drew him in close. Not gently, but a strong and sudden pull. One second Hayseed had been sitting, now he was suddenly being pressed against his larger friends side.

His mumbling stopped, at least.

"It hurts." Hayseed said quietly, his voice not sounding completely like his own. 

Hoggy made a sound of acknowledgement, the arm around him gave a squeeze to pin him closer to himself. He could tell how pained his small friend was, and the suffering he felt was not something he welcomed. He was good at scaring things away, a roar, a wave of his arms, and it would scare away the bravest man he'd come across. But this was something he couldn't scare away with brute force and show of strength. It frustrated him beyond words.

They sat in the silence, watching the rain, for a time longer than Hayseed could properly count. Was it still the same day? Or had it passed? The rain and clouds blotted out the sun, the sky, the moon, and stars, making it impossible to tell.

"...do you 'ave a face under your face?" he asked, suddenly, breaking the silence.

The question had the monster jolt, if only a little. He looked down to the other, who had his glowing eyes locked on his face. The monster had never seen his face, and they had been together quite a while now. He'd never even considered if he had a face under that burlap sack and glowing eyes. Now suddenly the idea of it struck him for something, a word, a feeling he couldn't rightly describe. "...yes."

"What's it like?" Hayseed brightened immediately, sitting up straighter. "Is it fat? You got a good nose? How 'bout your eyes I can barely see your peepers through your mask!"

"Same about you." the monster replies, feeling more than a little self conscious.

"Oh. Well then, hehe!" 

And with that Hayseed grabbed at the sack that covered his head, and yanked it off. It fell away and what was left was a face. To anyone passing it would look like a dead mans face, pale skin, sunken in eyes, a very visible hole right between his unfocused eyes... a reminder how he'd met his end though he himself could not remember it. Stitches tugged at the corners of his lips, that were drawn back in a big, bright smile despite how unfocused his eyes were now without the glow to help him see.

The monster was staring into the face of his creator. 

He knew that face. It had been the first face he'd seen when he had been brought to life. Hovering over him, crying tears of rapturous joy, praising science and magic that his creature was alive, alive!... And he was here. Smiling the same smile he had when he'd been made, yet it seemed... aged. A proper smile, a real, genuine smile. Not one of madness, not one built on the bones of revenge. 

Hayseed was Junkenstein and he clearly did not remember it.

"What's wrong, is me nose missing?" Hayseed asked, eyes blinking out of sync, before reaching up to touch at the pointed sniffer.

"...no." the monster said after a few suffocating seconds of thought. How could he tell him the truth? Who he'd been? What he'd done? What would that do to him, would it change him? Monster... Hoggy... had gotten so accustomed to this bright burning ball of fire and hay and his attitude. How happy he was about every little thing. Would he change? Would he become a different man, a different monster, if he knew who he'd been? The idea of losing him, even the personality of him, was not a welcome one. "You're uglier than I thought."

Hayseed laughed hysterically at that, clapping his mechanical and flesh hand together clearly tickled by the comment. He left his sack down in his lap, and reached his hands up to Hoggy's face. "C'mon mate your go you gotta go now I shown you mine, now show me yours!"

Easily he pushed the probing hands away. Apprehension gnawed at him, but he was a monster of his word right? The monster reached a massive hand up and untied the back of the green mask. It loosened, and the brightness of the world even if it was muted by the rain began to pour into his eyes. He watched the face of Hayseed, his creator, as it fell away to reveal his face. 

What Hayseed saw was a mans face. It had... where to begin? It was a pale colour that was hidden by the green mask, and the rest of his green skin. A fat, round face with most of his nose missing, thick lips, thicker eyebrows and side burns. His eyes were something else though, for they felt familiar to the scarecrow. Like he'd looked into them once, long ago but had forgotten them. He felt a sense of lost that he didn't understand.

"Well?" Hoggy asked. "Is it awful?"

"Nah!" Hayseed replied brightly. "You're handsome!" He answered honestly, for it was all but impossible for Hayseed to lie. "I like your eyes."

If the Monster could blush he would be now. He lowered his gaze, fingering the green hog like mask in his large hands before pulling it back on. Hayseed made a noise of protest but didn't push it, mostly since the rain had stopped. Head jerking around his eyes stared unfocused at the world, before yanking his own mask back on. "The rains stopped!!" He declared as he bounced to his feet only to immediately bump his head again the tree bark.

Hoggy watched him trample out into the soggy world, his hands gripping his knees subconsciously. Hayseed was his creator and had no idea. Junkenstein had died, and he had been brought back just like him and, just like him, had no memory.

Hayseed calling him handsome, his creator had said the same thing as he'd touched his face. How proud and crazed he'd been. Yet with Hayseed saying the same thing he felt a twist of emotions he wasn't sure about. Reaching a hand up he touched his own cheek, for but a moment, before being snapped out of his quiet meditation of reflection by Hayseed.

"C'mon, c'mon!" Hayseed called, from here the Monster could already see he was half drenched in wet mud.

Hoggy smiled behind his mask and carefully got to his feet, ducked out of the hallowed out tree and trundled after the physical remains of his creator, aware the man was gone but something, someone, had been left to fill the void left by him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One storm clears, another storm comes, and an old woman is given a task to fulfill. 
> 
> Meanwhile our Monsters have a bit of an adventure on a bridge.

There was a storm, and it was a heavy one. The rivers would no doubt be rushing, full of water by now, and it had only been raining for an hour now. The dark clouds made even daylight impossible to break through to brighten the world, the rain falling so hard and fast if you wanted to the strength of the wind and rain could probably keep you propped up if you leaned into it hard enough.

A tavern, in this kind of weather, was always a very lively place. It felt as though half the town was in here, it was so bustling and busy.

Yet despite this, the woman had found herself a quiet corner to sit in. Ordering a drink she had sat there in relative silence, smoking a small pipe, and had been very much enjoying herself until a group of men had approach her. They all talked one on top of the other, and it was giving her a headache. It took her throwing her hands up and yelling at them to calm down, and speak one at a time, for them to finally listen.

And eventually she had an idea as to just what they wanted.

"The issue is, that they live. The monsters we fought so hard to wipe off of God's green Earth live on! They haunt our fields, terrify our sheep, our cows give no milk out of fear!"

"You are pushing it." the Alchemist said, plainly. "Those cows of yours, they still give milk. Good milk, too."

"Some don't!" the farmer replied. "My crops are wilting, cursed by the monsters it is!"

"These monsters are not the type to hand out curses." she replied. "They rip and tear and terrify but they do not curse. Curses are from the Witch of the Wilds. Not these two, if they are who you claim them to be."

"I saw them with my own two eyes," he spluttered. "Wandering my fields! They hunger for blood! We need your allies, where are they??"

She shrugged as she leaned back in her seat in the tavern, lifting up her cup of tea. "The soldier has gone onto another war. The American has wandered Westward. And the Archer? Last I saw he was going Eastwards. Now it's just me."

The farmer, and those who had came with him, clearly looked upset. They wanted the four who had brought down the monster, the witch, her minion and the crazed doctor. But now they were all gone. All they had left was an old woman with one eye and a magic that didn't match that of the witch who had, now, gone into hiding.

"...can you track them? You can find them but tell us where you spot them. Then we can finish them off ourselves."

The Alchemist sighed. "How much are you paying me? My services are not free."

The men shuffled among themselves. One, the designated leader of the bunch, finally pulled out a bag and set it down in front of her on the table. Reaching for it she drew it in close and observed the gold and silver coins. Nice. She swiftly pocketed it. "Gentlemen, I will accept your mission. I will find these monsters of yours. I will show you where they are and you can deal with them how you want."

~*~

The bridge had been here for a long time, made obvious by the fact that the boards creaked underfoot, the green slime that grew around the underside of it, and that people had at some point went to the point of scratching their initials into the wood. Hayseed was inspecting some now as Hoggy had begun to make his way over the bridge.

"JJ," Hayseed read aloud, "L... L.... Hoggy what's this word?"

Heaving a sigh, Hoggy stepped back and crouched down to glare at the carved writing. "Loves."

"Loves!" The straw man giggled. "JJ loves MR!"

"Hmm. Come on. I don't trust this bridge." reaching down he grabbed Hayseed's arm and yanked him up and dragged him across the bridge before it did something ominous and evil like break under their combined weight. 

"Don't like the water!" Hayseed informed Hoggy for the millionth time. Water was not good for him. Rain felt painful. THe idea of falling into water, his straw growing soggy, and his stitches growing weak was not an appealing idea for the man made of straw.

"No fire either." Hoggy reminded him helpfully.

"No!!" his glowing eyes glimmered. "Fire worst! Eats me straw, eats me body! Don't wanna burn!"

"So either you end up a soggy haystack or a burnt crisp." grinned the monster as he continued across the bridge.

Just as Hayseed was ushered off the bridge, the plank of wood immediately beneath the Monster realised it had lived a long, full life as a piece of a bridge but it couldn't spend its entire life stuck in one place. So it snapped in half, one piece breaking free and falling into the stream where it was carried away to eventually end up a part of a beavers dam. The remaining piece stuck tight to the bridge, too afraid to venture further.

Hoggy, meanwhile, had one leg and half his mass hanging above the water. Grunting in annoyance he grabbed at the ground and began to pull himself free.

Hayseed, naturally, freaked out. “HOGGY!” he screamed, scrambling back to the bridge, panic somehow clearly visible on his sack face as he jumped from his peg leg to his good foot and back again unable to determine what to do. Was he even strong enough to help? He finally grabbed for one of his friends arms, grabbing at it as tightly as he could with his two hands and tried to pull.

It was at this point that the second part of the wood plank found itself brave enough to let go of the bridge, so it did, falling to the stream below and causing the heavy green monster to fall even further down between the gap left in its wake. If not for Hayseed already grabbing him, he may have gone way of the beaver dam as well.

His panic was contagious. Hoggy had been fine, but hearing, and feeling, his companion’s panic it began to leak into his open stitched skin. He took ragged, fast breaths, as he tried to pull himself further up against the rocks and grass that now seemed so dang slippery. 

“Don’t let go.” he said, grunting, pushing his foot against whatever it was that was holding him up.

“I won’t I won’t!” Hayseed said, panic stricken, as he yanked and pulled on Hoggy’s arm. He grunted, strained, the joints in his own arms beginning to pop loose and free by how heavy his Monstrous friend was. His limbs were just about ready to give way when he offered one last, hard yank and the green skinned beast was hauled out of his mess, almost landing completely on top of the scarecrow and landed with a heavy thud on the ground.

Panting heavily, the Monster laid on his back, eyes wide, lungs burning and.... Arm missing. He sat up swiftly, staring at where his left arm had been a second ago. The sleeve of his purple jacket still hung there, useless and empty, and while that was comical it was just... bizarre to see that. He looked around and his eyes landed on Hayseed who was laying on his back in the dirt, clutching the dismembered arm.

Naturally there was no blood. Neither of them had blood now.

“...can I have that back?” He asked, bemused.

“HOGGY!” Hayseed dropped the arm and threw himself at his friend, wrapping both his arms around his neck, and buried his burlap sack hidden face into his chest. “You were gonna fall ‘n drown Hoggy!”

“No I wasn’t.” 

“You was!” He drew back, now grasping at the filters that aided his friend in breathing but not too tightly. “You were going to fall, a-and I’ll be all alone, and I don’t. I don’t want you leaving, I don’t want to see you leave again...”

That last word had the Monster freeze. Again. Again? In all their time together he’d never left the scarecrow’s side. Why was he saying again? A part of him wondered, if it were possible, that Junkenstein was still in there somewhere. That he could remember his creation charging off into the darkness, leaving him.

“Hayseed.” Hoggy spoke to break through his friend’s panic. “I’m not going anywhere. What I am doing, is getting my arm back.”

Managing to untangle himself from the straw man, he picked up his discarded arm and stared at it blankly. “Um.”

“I can fix it!!” Hayseed announced proudly as he grabbed a spindle and a needle from somewhere in his overalls. “I’m a good stitcher!”

Of course he is. The doctor had stitched him together, hadn’t he? How many days and endless nights had he spent stitching his monstrosity to life? It would be like muscle memory now. And he watched as Hayseed rolled the sleeve of his arm up to reveal where the limb had split free from the old stitching. 

You’d think someone who was continuously shivering and shaking, Hayseed was very good at stitching. Hoggy watched in bemused curiosity as the needle and thread worked at his green skin, stitching the arm back into its rightful place and thankfully facing the right way also. 

When the arm was rightfully stitched, Hayseed sat back. “Give your fingers a wiggle!”

Pausing a moment, Hoggy looked down at his hand. He flexed his fingers, wiggled them, then perked up a little. “Works.”

“Yay!” Hayseed giggled, and dropped his needle and thread back into his overalls where they belonged. He got to his feet and hopped around his large friend, grabbing onto the electronic bolts that stuck out of his back. “Told ya, get ya good as new!”

“Hmm.” Pulling himself to his feet, Hoggy looked down at the shorter stitched monster and lifted his newly stitched arm and gave him a thumbs up. “Good job.”

After a few more moments of gathering themselves together again, somewhat literally, the two headed off into the undergrowth away from the old bridge. It was a hazard. Who knows how long it had been out here rotting in the woods waiting for a fat monster to wander over it. And now it would be stuck waiting for the rest of its days since there was no more monsters hoping to cross this rickety old thing.

But some time later, a time immeasurable by anybody present, an Alchemist appeared upon the bridge. The old woman with her face hidden in a shawl and her one eye covered with a patch, made her way nimbly across the bridge. She jumped the small hurdle at the end, and stopped short to inspect it. There were heavy foot-marks along the old wood, and judging by the kicked up mud and dirt, and the missing plank of wood, something big had crossed here.

She snatched up a piece of purple torn cloth and turned it over in her hand. The monster had been dressed in purple. She remembered that night, with the rain, explosions, and echoed laughter of a mad man. The clothing barely covered the swollen, large body, and by science itself she knew this to be the same material.

“So. You are out here.” She said to herself, pocketing the cloth, eye now on the ground. The rain recently had made the soil soft, so large, easily recognizable footsteps wandered into the woods, accompanied by someone with just one foot... and a peg leg.

“Junkenstein.” 

The Alchemist followed the tracks into the undergrowth, a sickly feeling growing in her stomach. His body had gone missing. Had the Witch brought him back as well? Was he the second monster, disguised, to join his creation in their torment of the local people? 

She’d have to get to the bottom of this, or die trying.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dreams are really interesting things, aren't they? Sometimes they mean nothing. And sometimes they can tell your life story.
> 
> And monster dreams are no different.

_"If you keep being this reckless you'll be dead before you're thirty." The young man scolded as he stitched up a wound along a thick, tanned arm._

_"I'm a woodsman. Recklessness sometimes comes into play when you're toppling literal giants." Laughed the larger man, barely flinching as his arm was tended to._

_"Hmmmmmm." An angry huff, complimented with a sigh, sealed the deal and the stitching was done. Picking up bandages he carefully wrapped them around his forearm, certainly not taking his time to feel the strong muscles, to admire the hairy forearm and the multiple scars that riddled the skin. Why would any physician do such a thing?_

_"You're staring again."_

_He laughs, before sighing, and then eases back a little. A frown crosses his face. His frown is acknowledged, and a large hand gently cradles his face._

_"What's wrong?"_

_"I am being called to the town over. The Lord needs someone of my expertise. He has called for me specifically."_

_There is a silence, a deafening silence, between the two men. The shorter, younger man is drawn in close and held by the woodsman, so close he could hear his heart beating. He could not go with him. This town needed their woodsman, and it would be suspicious if he were to follow the doctor to a new place. It would be a dead give away._

_"I will write." One whispers. It did not matter which._

_"Every day?"_

_"Yes."_

Hayseed sat there, staring at the sleeping Hoggy who was curled on his side, mumbling in his sleep. Tilting his head, the scarecrows glowing eyes flickered a few times. Hoggy had been sleeping more, as the colder weather continued to roll in and as he slept he would talk things out. A conversation, but never one he could understand since he was missing half of it. Giving a huffy huff, Hayseed settled himself down and rested his head against Mako's chest. The long, laboured breaths of long dead lungs gifted themselves to his ears, and an old heart beating anew.

He'd never admit it, but he'd been so scared at that bridge. It had happened, and he'd seen Hoggy slip, and the idea of him falling and being lost terrified him. Without Hoggy, where would he go? Where would he be safe? He didn't want Hoggy to leave him, ever. It spoke of a fear. A deep rooted fear he couldn't explain away no matter how hard he tried.

His anxiety and fear ate at him like the mice who would try to crawl into his chest to rest. Made him wriggle, and whine, but despite both nibbling away at him, sleep somehow got him. It was on him instantly, wrapping him in darkness and warmth.

Then he was standing in a field of corn. There was rain. Lightning filled the skies yet he didn't feel the need to flinch.

Reaching out, large hands held his. They were familiar hands but the face before him was unfamiliar. But also he felt like crying. Who was that? Those eyes gazed at him in a way Hayseed could not understand.

"It wasn't your fault." The man said, but his lips didn't seem to move.

But the man was suddenly gone; as if a hole had opened up in the ground and he'd fallen through and Hayseed knew loss and pain. Screaming, the corn erupted into flames. Even with the rain and lightning the fire roared with life and hunger.

Hayseed screamed.

"Wake up."

Familiar hands were on his, and Hayseeds flickering eyes sparked to the waking world and his dream, his nightmare, was lost to him. Hoggy was there, like he was when he fell asleep, the green face gazing down at him and though the expression was always set with the same look Hayseed swore he saw concern. "With me?" He asked.

The dream was still there, in his head. The lightning and rain, the burning field, and the man. Hayseed stared dimly up at the Monster for a few moments, long enough that he was given another rattle by those large hands. "Yeah!" He answered at last, giving a trembling giggle. "Sorry mate, was all lost in me thoughts of dreams!"

"You were screaming." 

"Was I?"

"Mako." Hoggy said.

"May what?" Hayseed blinked.

"You were screaming the name Mako. Who's Mako?" He asked.

"No idea." The answer was genuine. He'd never heard the name before in his life, but he'd been screaming it in his sleep? Whoever this Mako was, he had no right making his sleep so unhappy like that. The images were burning in his brain like that fire and he wanted them gone already. In an effort to remove them, Hayseed shook his head violently as Hoggy got to his feet.

"Where you going?" Hayseed asked.

The Monster moved to the entrance to the cave they'd found, and holed up in last night. His gaze fixed on the trees, on the distant sound of birds, and movement of forest animals. There were few and far between. But it was not Winter yet. They shouldn't be this quiet, unless there was something else out there in the woods. Something worse than monsters who simply ran to exist and hid to sleep. Damn his eyes for being weaker, for not being able to see as far as they once would have done when he'd been... alive?

Had he been alive? There must have been something before Junkenstein had stitched him together. Large human parts do not grow on trees. Who had he been? What was his reason for living, and dying? 

Such thoughts weren't to be had now. He pushed them away, before turning back to look down at Hayseed still on the ground, leaving strands of straw where he lay. "What?" The walking, talking scarecrow asked.

"We got to get moving again." He said bluntly, moving back, and helping the scrawny, skinny, but tall thing to his feet. "No time to waste."

"But I just woke up!" Hayseed whined.

"All the more reason to move." 

"I don't want to." 

That pouting, arms crossed pose was nothing to the Monster. He stomped over to the scrawny thing, grabbed his waist, and threw him over his shoulder as if he were a sack of potatoes. One large hand rested on the small of his back, pinning him on his shoulder, before he turned and walked off into the wilderness. Hayseed yelped at being manhandled, and flailed his limbs as he'd been settled onto the taller monsters shoulder like this. 

But that large hand on his smaller back had him suddenly calm. His body went limp over Hoggy's shoulders, and he hung there staring down the back of his large friend at the ground beneath him as the other walked. My that hand was nice and big and warm but not really warm neither of them were warm blooded creatures. Both were living, walking dead things. Not much warmth there.

Regardless, he liked the hand and leaned against it best he could.

"Are we runnin', Hoggy?" He asked, suddenly.

"Yeah."

"From what?"

"Dunno. But something."

That didn't calm any fear Hayseed didn't have before, but certainly had now. Lifting his limp head the scarecrow observed the area behind them. The trees were there, as were some distant bird song but there didn't appear to be sounds of movement. At least, movement of anything human sized. "We always going to be running, Hoggy?"

"..."

"I don't want to keep running."

"..."

"Hoggy?"

"What?"

"...What'll happen if we stop?"

The Monster, slowly, came to a stop. The crunching leaves beneath his heavy feet silenced their crunches of pain, and fell to silence. Hoggy, tall, large, green, and mean, stood there in silence. "I don't know. Nothing good. Painful things I think. People don't like us, Hayseed. They see monsters. People kill monsters. It's what they do. I don't want to die again. It hurts."

"...I don't remember how I died."

"You know you died?" This, genuinely, shocked the Monster.

"Yeah well! I can stitch meself together from falling to pieces. 'N I know I got a hole in me head! So. I was a live once, yeah?"

"...Yeah."

His legs, peg leg and not, kicked against the Monster’s stomach. "Wonder what kinda bloke I was like then! Was I good? Was I bad? Did I have a family? I don't know! Sometimes, wish I did know. Then I'd check in on em. See how they are. Give em a spook! All, BOO! I'm yer long dead relative, come back as a spooky Scarecrow!" He giggled in glee for a second. "Oh, imagine the screams!"

Junkenstein had no family. The Monster knew this. He'd been alone in that castle save for the Witch and her Assistant. Those robots he created also, they weren't family. Had the man ever had a family to care for him? To love him? Did no one mourn the scientist's death when he'd been struck down by that bowman?

All things the Monster thought about his creator, but could never ask, for the man was dead and what was left was giggling on his shoulder.

He wished he could ask. Hoggy, the Monster, longed for questions to be asked. Who had he been? Did he matter? Was he just a tool? But no answers would ever be given and he felt rave over that. The same anger that ensnared him on the night of his ‘birth’. When he defied any orders, and yet his creator celebrated his rebellious nature. He could still remember his hysterical laughter, and cries of “He’s alive, he’s alive!”.

All words that had come from Hayseed’s lips.

The Monster was suddenly struck with a feeling of throwing the scarecrow to the ground, to rip his mask off and yell at the face of his creator. To demand answers. To get them. To even beat them out of him--but he knew it was pointless. Hayseed had no memories of being that man, no more than he had memories of who he’d been in life.

Suddenly weary, and heavy, Hoggy slowly set Hayseed down on the ground.

“Hoggy...?” Hayseed asked, worriedly. His friend had changed so rapidly, it scared him.

“I’m tired.”

“We just woke up!”

“Not that kind of tired.”

“Oh.”

Hayseed tapped a finger against his masked mouth, thinking as best he could as to how to fix this. All the while his good foot tapped on the floor out of sync, trying to formulate a way to make it so Hoggy wasn’t sleepy after waking up.

He was watched by the Monster, standing there, eyes glowing, tapping away at the floor and his own face in silent thought. You could almost imagine smoke coming out of his ears; that is, if smoke didn’t continually seem to come from the top of his head. Without direction, his right hand slowly reached out, and his massive hand cupped the side of Hayseed’s face.

“Cute.”

The scarecrow went quiet because all of a sudden he was struck with a very heavy dose of familiarity. This has happened before. Many, many times this has happened. That same hand held my face. That same word was whispered to me. I know it to be true but I can’t remember any of it.

He felt inclined to lean into the hand, which he did, the lights of his eyes dimming as he let his eyes shut. To bask in this feeling of familiarity and... love? He didn’t know. But he liked, nay, loved it. A tiny giggle erupted from his throat and for a moment worries melted away.

The same could be said for both monsters.

Hoggy, also, had felt a sudden rush of familiarity. Of love. That this was Right and it was the only Right thing in the world right now even if he himself couldn’t explain it away. Hayseed, Junkenstein, had and did mean something to the Monster but for strikingly different reasons. His free arm reached out, pulling Hayseed closer to him, leaning down and exhaling.

“...we got to keep moving.” 

“Okay.”

No more arguments over it. The hand to Hayseed’s face slid down his shoulder, to his arm, until a large hand grasped itself around the straw man’s good hand. He held on tight, and he felt Hayseed return the gesture. Turning, the two headed off into the undergrowth together once more.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ana finally catches up with the Junkers, but it doesn't go the way she'd planned at all.

“It’s like they want me to find them.” Ana mumbled to herself as she knelt by some tell tale footprints left in now dried mud. There was even some straw strands here and there. This had to be one of the easiest jobs she’d ever undertaken, even if she’d considered it a fool’s quest at the start. Junkenstein was dead, she had seen his body, but she knew the magic of that Witch and what she was capable of.

He had indeed been brought back as something else, something different, much like he’d done with his Monster. That creature of rage and anger had almost decimated an entire village in its want for revenge against the Lord, he was clearly something to be wary of. Which was why she’d brought a good dosage of sleeping darts in case she finally caught up with the lumbering mountain of grotesque green skin.

She could still remember him, that night. His hands were huge, bigger than a bear's claw as he’d swung like the monster he was. It was not a sight she wanted to see again, or be near ever again, but that money sitting handsomely in her savings now couldn’t be denied entirely. Besides, a quick sleep dart at both the monsters should be enough to knock them out long enough for her to arrange something to ensure they couldn’t get away again.

Then a simple delivery of them to the townspeople and they’d be at peace and stop bothering her with this matter. These were monsters she was hunting, and who knew what they were plotting now.

~*~

Hayseed stared skywards as his back pressed itself against the large, stitched stomach of the green skinned monster, his glowing eyes flickering as he watched geese flying overhead. Their distant honks filled the partly cloudy skies, and he echoed their honks to himself before turning his head around, peering at Hoggy.

“Where are they going?” he asked, curiously.

“Hm?”

He pointed skywards at the birds. “Them!”

“Dunno.” since he genuinely didn’t know. “Away?”

“Maybe they’re goin’ where we’re going!” Hayseed said excitedly before shifting around so now he was laying down against the large, fairly comfortable stomach of the other monster, resting his head in both his hands. “When we get there, maybe it’ll be full of those honkers!”

The Monster hoped not. Those things were loud, even from here he could hear their obnoxious honking and he wasn’t sure if he would be capable of managing that kind of annoying sound. Then again he was here with Hayseed, and the guy was just as noisy if not more so than those honking birds who were flying further away.

Shifting, the Monster eased Hayseed off of him. Hayseed noisily objected to being moved, but when given the opportunity of taking hold of the green monsters large hand he swiftly and happily did so, squeezing against those large fingers happily. “We going again?” he asked brightly.

“Yeah.”

Did they have a location in mind? Not at all. They were directionless, the two of them, neither familiar with this wood and the many ways one could and had gotten lost. So they walked, trudging through the moss and overgrown undergrowth, Hayseed tripping over his own feet on multiple occasions and falling against Hoggy who caught him each time. He giggled every time, once going so far as to swoon “Oh, Hoggy!” as those arms once again caught him.

“You’re doing this on purpose.” Hoggy grumbled, catching the lanky scarecrow for the sixth time in as many minutes.

Hayseed erupted into noisy giggling, and poked his tongue out even if Hoggy couldn’t see it.

But the next thing Hayseed tripped over was not his own feet but something else. He yelped as his one good foot hooked on something and he almost face planted into topsoil and dirt if Hoggy hadn’t, yet again, grabbed him. Looking down, Hayseed made a small startled noise at what he saw.

A skeleton.

Hoggy saw it too; in fact there was a whole skeleton out here. Well, not that whole; the head was missing. An axe was embedded among the ribs, clearly the murder weapon, but it had been aged like the bones it had been stuck with. The handle was worn and eaten at by termites and animals, and what clothing the person may have been wearing had been worn away by the weather.

“Ooooh,” Hayseed reached down and touched the rib cage to see what it felt like. He couldn’t explain the fascination with the thing, but he wanted to touch it. To see if he could work out how tall the person had been. Was it a man? A woman? He all but ripped an arm from the last remaining strands of muscle that connected it to the rib cage, holding it up curiously as his glowing eyes illuminated the grisly scene.

The Monster, meanwhile, felt compelled to reach down and pick up what was left of the axe. It felt, somehow, familiar in his hand. He held it up in the sky before him as Hayseed inspected the bones, and he swung the axe with a confidence he didn’t know he had. It swung through the air seamlessly, and when he threw it into the air it spiraled a few times before it began its descent to the ground. And just before it could land somewhere bad, Hoggy snatched it out of the air expertly.

“Ooh do it again!” Hayseed squealed.

So he did. Again the axe went up, spinning and whirling before being grabbed out of the air by the towering monster. He gave a proud chuckle as Hayseed had clapped for him, giggling throughout. He bent down and began tugging at the bones again as Hoggy inspected the old, worn axe in his hands.

It was at this moment that there was movement across the way. Hoggy lifted his head, hand tightening around the axe, and moved around the skeletal remains and Hayseed to firmly put himself between the two. The air suddenly felt tense and uneasy, even Hayseed seemed to pick up on it and the shift in his friends demeanour. He gave a small, worried noise and reached out to touch the taller Monster before something appeared in the bushes across from them.

A stag.

He was towering and his antlers were large and intimidating. His stance one of power. The beast eyed these two monsters with both a curious look, and indifference. It snorted as it began to move back through the bushes, accompanied by a few does who didn’t even give the monsters a second glance.

Hoggy felt stupid. He turned to look down at Hayseed who was still crouched over the skeleton. “Well that was-”

A dart flew out of the darkness and embedded itself in his chest. The Monster looked down at it, curiously, before another one shot at him. Finally he staggered back, realizing what this was. An attack. He was being attacked and the second his brain realized this he let out a quaking, terrible roar that had the animals who had been peaceful seconds ago bolting in out right fear. He lumbered towards where he thought the darts had come from, even if his body was beginning to slowly succumb to the effects of the darts.

He couldn’t feel his legs now. The Monster roared with pure, undiluted anger, and swung his hands at the bushes where he thought he’d seen something but suddenly another dart was embedded in his neck. Swatting at it with a hand, the beast turned, heaving before his body finally succumbed to darts. With a low, mournful groan, FrankenHog, Hoggy, toppled to the ground.

And Hayseed shrieked, his scream echoing.

Dropping his bones he bolted over to his fallen friend, grabbing the lapels of his jacket, tugging at them in an effort to right him. “Hoggy! Hoggy?? Hoggy no, HOGGY??”

He saw the darts. His glowing eyes flickered for a second and the smoke that appeared to be eternally funneling out of the top of his head suddenly grew darker. The soft glow of his eyes became a fierce flickering, and he spun around; just in time to miss a dart that would have hit him right in the arm. “ _YOU!_ ” he screamed with an anger he’d never felt before, he felt hot, like he was on fire and yet there were no flames.

Hayseed threw an arm towards the bushes, and his arm disconnected suddenly. It was stretched out, held together by stitching, and straw, that seemed to act like a binding agent. The straw flared and rustled, glowing with a flame that couldn’t hurt him, as it hunted the darkness. His hand found nothing so it snapped back to him and Hayseed leaped into the air with a grace he’d never had before. Landing in a tree, both his arms extending down into the bushes, both hands open and stretched seeking and grasping at the darkness. Where one caught onto a tree, the wood splintered and dented inwards, a sudden strength the scarecrow monster had never shown before.

“ **WHERE ARE YOU?** ” he screamed, voice bloodthirsty. As he leaped from the tree yet another dart; just barely missing his leg. Hayseed leaped over the skeletal remains of the human to land over his downed friend, looking more like a cryptid creature than ever before. Arms bent at odd, painful looking angles, black smoke billowing from his head and open mouth, eyes glowing wildly as he remained over his downed companion.

Ana, meanwhile, was pressing herself against a tree. Her gun held to her chest she felt her heart racing in her chest. She hadn’t thought the good Doctor would be like this. He had tripped and fallen all over the place, his straw was everywhere, yet what he’d transformed into now was something right out of Hell itself. Was it the Witch doing this? Was her magic in him, making him change? And her darts, she was such a good shot but suddenly she couldn’t land a single one on the being who bounced and leaped around with arms able to stretch so far to reach for her.

She should have tried knocking him out first. But the Monster had been a far easier target, and he’d been armed with that axe. Now it felt as though an axe wielding monster was nothing compared to the screeching, flaming scarecrow that now seemed to be screaming for her blood.

She hadn’t felt fear in decades.

Ana cursed as she felt in her bag. She was down to only a few more darts and after that she’d be defenseless against Junkenstein, or what he’d been turned into. This area was heavy with bushes and places to hide but would she be able to wait out his anger? Turning her head, Ana peered with her one good eye through the shadows. The glowing light that was the good doctor’s eyes gave away his position. He was still crouched over there, awaiting movement, something to give her position away.

Reaching down besides her she found a rock. Gripping it tightly in her hand she pulled back and threw the rock which flew over head and smacked against a tree.

Hayseed reacted almost instantly. The noise had come from a tree, and eyes glowing his head had snapped around at a disgustingly horrifying angle without having to turn the rest of his already twisted body, and then he’d launched himself at it, wrapping his now stretched arms around the tree, screeching like an animal as his grasping hands searched. Beneath his strength and his strong arms, the tree buckled, the sounds of breaking wood and splinters flying. At this, Ana ran. She was a smart woman, and she knew when to turn tail and run from a situation and this was a Bad Situation that she wasn’t prepared for. His distraction may last long enough for her to put some distance between herself and the monsters, she could mark where they were last spotted and come back with either help, or a better plan.

~*~

_“Any last words?”_

_There was nothing but darkness, and voices were muffled behind something obstructing his vision. He fought the bindings around his wrists and ankles but found himself incapable of pulling free._

_“Disgusting. To think we welcomed you into our town,” a voice said, “And you sin with that... that freak.”_

_“Don’t touch him.” he says, voice surprisingly steady despite the fear gripping at his chest._

_“He’s already run, once a sinner always one.” scoffed yet another voice._

_Ease washed over him. Jamison was gone. He’d been called away. It had saved his life, now in the protection of a Lord. These fools couldn’t touch him._

_The sounds of rushing water filled his ears. The panic within him began to grow like a kindling fire._

_“Mako Rutledge,” his name was spoken by a voice he did not know. “For the sin of lying with a man we deliver you back to your master. May the devil have pity on you for God shall not.”_

_And then the water took him, it filled him, and Mako Rutledge found his watery end by the river that he and Jamison had spent many an hour by. His life escaped from his flooding lungs and all he was, was lost, and his last thoughts were of a man he would never see again._

~*~

He didn’t know how much time had passed, his head felt foggy and heavy, and his breathing was labored and rough. Hoggy lay there in the grass, straw strewn all around, his barely focused eyes opening to find a canopy of leaves overhead. What had happened? He couldn’t remember for a few short seconds, until the memory of being shot at by something. He’d been attacked. _They_ had been attacked.

“Hayseed,” he mumbled as he pushed himself up shakily, head turning, seeking. “Hayseed?” Hoggy asked louder. If their pursuer had gotten him, taken him away, he didn’t know what he’d do but already the rage and panic was swelling within him.

“Hoggy!”

The bright voice of Hayseed greeted him and before he was aware of where the other was he felt his arms wrapping around his shoulders, and felt the burlap sack scratch itself against his face. “You’re alright!!” Hayseed declared ecstatically. “I was so scared you weren’t going to wake up!”

“Nah...” large arms wrapped around the scarecrow, holding him close, giving him the safety he hadn’t been able to give him before. “Take more than that to knock me down for good.”

“I’m glad!” squeaked the hay stuffed monster, eyes glowing a happy glow.

“What happened...?” Hoggy asked, pulling back to stare down at Hayseed, looking to see if there were any signs of injuries on him. It didn’t look like it.

“I scared em off!” Hayseed replied brightly. “I saw you go down and was afraid you weren’t going to get up and so I scared them away! Taught em not to come near us again!”

He wasn’t sure if he believed that story. Hayseed didn’t exactly look intimidating, or scary, but whatever had happened had worked, right? Both were here, neither was hurt, and that’s what mattered. But now he knew they were being followed, trailed by somebody, and he hadn’t even seen their face. That made him worried, more so than he’d felt before. He showed this through his actions, gently pulling Hayseed into his arms again and held onto him, eyes narrowing slowly.

Fear of the unknown, of knowing a threat was now out there and capable of downing him was not a comforting thought. Whoever they were, he had a feeling they’d be coming back.

And it scared him.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are heating up when the villagers seek out the monsters themselves...

“So, what happened?” an angry man asked as Ana had returned to the town without any proof of slaying either monster.

“It was a harder task than I imagined.” the woman replied honestly. “I downed one, but the other... whatever he is, he’s not something to be trifled with alone.” Ana looked around and quickly assessed that those around her were not angry. She could feel it in the atmosphere around her, and the glaring faces of the men who were beginning to surround her.

Regardless, her hands remained affixed to her weapon. Angry men were like a herd of animals. 

“What a waste of time!” shouted one angrily.

“Knew better than to send a woman to do a man’s job.” announced another loudly.

“Oh yes, then why didn’t one of you go?” Ana demanded, frowning, though her eye patch hid one of her eyes so the effect was possibly lost on these idiots. “Why did you choose to send me if you were to scoff and say such things?” not to mention how old she was in comparison to a lot of the men here.

She never let her age stop her before, nor would she begin now, but it was a valid point. Were all of these men so weak willed that they lacked the capacity to trail two monsters alone? Were none of them trackers, or hunters?

No. Looking at them, she could see that. These were farmers. They were men who spent their days with their hands and knees in the mud and dirt day after day. Their best friends were their horses and dogs, and a faithful scarecrow who would keep the crows off of their crops. None of them were skilled at fighting, or hunting, and it showed on their faces.

Which is why the next few spoken words shocked her.

“Then let’s hunt em down and slay em ourselves!”

“Really now,” she snapped louder. “I tracked these monsters of yours. I watched and followed them. They’re no threat,” Ana looked at the faces of the gathered men. “All they want is to be alone. It’s clear to me, why isn’t it clear to you?”

“That’s weakness speaking.” said a voice,

“Old crone don’t know nothing!”

“They want peace we’ll give em peace with their deaths! Like we did that witch!”

Ana had to groan. These idiots truly believed they had chased away, or killed, the witch of the wilds? She knew that woman, the vixen, who used dark magic to remain young and beautiful as she let the world rot around her. She did this to every town; she would play around and buy men’s souls to give them what they want and once the town grew smart to her schemes she would let them ‘hunt’ and ‘burn’ her. 

But she never truly burned. Nor did she ever truly die.

“You’ll show us where you saw em last.” one man in a large straw hat said. “We’ll find em from there.”

“Excuse me?” Ana asked.

“Show us. Take us to where you saw them and we’ll hunt from there, won’t we boys?”

Braying wolfhounds barked and tugged at their leashes, eager for a hunt and a chase through the woods where all the good smells lived. Ana could practically smell the testosterone in the air and it made her feel dizzy and nauseous.

She had tracked them, those monsters. She had watched from the shadows in silence as they’d sat together. How they talked, actually touching each other with gentle hands that she’d seen rip and bring destruction. They were... happy. Content with one another.

As she was forced, almost at gunpoint, to lead the mob into the woods she hoped that the two would get away from these woods as fast as their legs could take them.

~*~

“Oooh, pretty...”

Hayseed crouched down in the dry undergrowth, grabbing the bleached white skull of a stag and pulled it up. The sharp, pointy antlers caught in some tree leaves, dislodging them. He proceeded to giggle and spun around, bathing himself in the falling, twirling brown and orange leaves as he held the skull above his head proudly in his long, lanky arms.

The serenity of the moment was captured by Hoggy, watching all of this play out before him. It was a welcome sight after what had occurred a few days ago and even if he hadn't felt the gaze of anyone on them since then, he still couldn't fight the feeling that they were still being watched. Paranoia and fear had him on his feet as soon as he'd been able to and urged Hayseed to go with him. Since then they'd barely stopped at all, putting as much distance as they could between a pursuer and themselves.

This was their first stop since they had begun moving and he could see his companions appreciation as he spun and twirled with the skull as leaves danced around him.

But he still wanted to keep moving. Times like these, he wished he had a sense of direction or at least a map. Maybe then he’d know if they were just going in circles, still being stuck near that town where they’d both hailed from in one way or another, or getting further away. At this time of year, everything looked the same. Trees that were thinning their leaves mixed with ever greens, and the dryness in the air, it was impossible to tell where they were.

Overhead, a rumbling filled the air. Both he, and Hayseed, looked skywards at once. A thunderstorm, from the looks of things. Maybe some rain, going by how black an approaching cloud looked. Like an ominous blanket slowly being drawn over the sky, and it did nothing to improve the paranoia in Hoggy’s heart. 

“Let’s keep going.” he said.

“Awww...” Hayseed dropped the skull to the ground; and even if his face wasn’t visible Hoggy could tell he was pouting. “But we just stopped Hoggy, me peg leg needs a rest!”

“It don’t need no rest.” Hoggy replied as he walked up to him, reached down and gently gripped his face in his massive hand, giving it a squeeze. “You’re just being lazy.”

“Maybe.” he grinned, eyes glowing brighter as he did, and wrapped his arms around the thick extended arm of his large partner. “Carry me!”

“Carry you?” 

“Yeah!” he scrambled suddenly, like a possum up a tree, and soon his arms were wrapped around the taller monsters head. “Carry me Hoggy, please?”

“You can walk,” he was trying not to smile but it bled through his masked face, as Hayseed gripped at him tighter still, now wrapping his legs around his forearm.

“No I can’t. Suddenly, I can’t walk. Oh woe is the scarecrow who can’t walk!” Hayseed lamented, resting his head atop of his fellow monsters head. “Gonna have to! Or leave me behind, you wouldn’t leave me behind, would you Hoggy?”

He stood there, and slowly tilted his head, a weak attempt to look at the others masked face. Two masked faces gazed at one another’s and slowly lifted his free hand to grip at Hayseed’s face.

“I would never.”

“You sound real serious.” Hayseed pointed out.

“It’s because I am.”

“Oh! Well. Uh,” Hayseed pressed his face firmly into the palm of Hoggy’s hand. “Wouldn’t leave you either.”

He’d begun to walk now, through the dried leaves and over rocks, Hayseed now gripping against his shoulder, indeed being carried. The storm seemed to be following them, growing ever closer, turning the air muggy and thick with the threat of rain at the fall season. Hoggy didn’t like it, for one neither of them liked rain but this threat of a storm seemed far bigger than anything they’d seen before. Normally, by now, he could see the stars in the sky but now it was nothing but blackness.

Not even the moon could pierce through the clouds.

Hayseed didn’t like it; he didn’t say it, but he didn’t have to. Hoggy could hear him, making the small noises of discomfort he made. Felt him twitch and cling to him tighter, visibly afraid of this storm even before the first rain drop fell.

Being carried was nice but it had to come to an end, and soon Hayseed was on his one foot and one peg leg once again. He stuck close to Hoggy, hand wrapped around the other’s thick forearm. The fact his devil-may-care attitude had seemed to have melted spoke volumes of what he felt in the air, what he could almost sense. Was it the storm? Something worse? He dare not contemplate too much.

“Hmm.” Hoggy frowned, before turning his head. “Feels like--”

The skies finally opened up, with a thunderous roar that shook the world, and lightning illuminated the darkness as the arching spikes hit the two conductors on the back of Hoggy’s back. Electricity shot through his entire being, every nerve stood on end, and he had never felt more alive. His life, short as it was, momentarily passed before his eyes but he did not die. He simply couldn’t. But unlike when he was slain by those heroes the electricity only aided his body, it gave him energy the likes of which nothing else had done before. 

Sparks jumped along the two rods sticking out of his spine, the jacket he wore was signed just around where the bases met, and there was a smell of burning hair now in the air mixing with the smell of the threat of rain. 

He roared. He couldn’t help himself but roar. His spine arched and he threw his head back and roared like the day of his creation. And he saw his face; Junkenstein’s face. How he smiled brightly and widely over him as he was finally brought to life. Tears all but filling his goggles with water before he pushed them off, his shaking hands touching him before he had his wits about him enough to pull away.

He’d been so proud of him. He’d loved him the second he saw him. 

And he was here, or what was left of him, sitting on the ground gazing up at him with glowing eyes as lightning again struck the world near by and the thickness of the air grew thicker still.

That’s when the branch closest to Hoggy’s head erupted. But nothing about it was natural, there was no lightning, only fire. He turned his head, light still erupting off of his back and he saw the man with his gun drawn. He was not alone. There were more. He saw weapons, he saw anger on faces, and he realized why he’d felt so anxious these past few days.

Just like before. They were being followed. But this time, he wasn’t going to be knocked out by a well placed shot. 

He was directly between Hayseed and the men, at least those he could see, and he roared again before he ran at the men without a sign of fear of apprehension. There was another blast from a large gun and he felt it hit his stomach but it did not slow him, it urged him on more as he collided with the group. His height, his weight, his might bowled them over and he heard cries and sounds of breaking bones, and more shouting.

Junkenstein’s Monster grabbed a man’s head, gripped it tight within his grip before he lifted it just a fraction before slamming it down into the ground. The sickening cracking noise, followed by the wet warmth in his fingers, it pushed him on to continue more as he raised and grabbed at the now dead mans arm. He pulled, muscles tore like paper and bones snapped before he swung his new, blooded club that now held half a rib cage with it as he brought it down upon the stunned group nearest to him.

Hayseed had just been moving towards his fellow monster when a hand grabbed his arm. He was yanked back, easily thrown off balance, and screamed as he hit the ground. His scream echoed as another bolt of lightning filled the sky, the assembled gaggle of men beginning to maybe realize that the old woman was right in pursuing these two wasn’t a good endeavor. 

Especially when Hayseed’s arm suddenly extended far longer than a humans could, held together with that stitching, and tightly packed straw. It pulled free, his fist forming and slamming itself into the face of the nearest man as his spine bent backwards and he curled backwards over before standing to his full height. Fire erupted from his burlap sack as he screamed, the gleam of his eyes shining brighter still.

“LEAVE US ALONE!” he screamed, “GO AWAY!”

A man made a terrible mistake in trying to grab the two rods on the back of the Monsters back. His flesh all but melted and affixed itself to the metal and his screaming, and flailing, sent the towering green pig masked man into a rage. He bucked and threw himself against trees to throw the man off, all while throwing his club around to keep the others at bay. 

Hayseed threw himself into a group of men, both of his arms stretching out, grabbing two by the throats and slamming them full force against a tree. His movement so powerful, so strong, that the bark on the other side of the tree splintered and fell off. Struggling breaths filled his ears as he released them, and as he swung his arm around to hit another the worst thing happened.

A flaming torch was thrown at him and it exploded against him in a fiery ball and Hayseed screamed as panic filled him. He could feel his straw being eaten by the licking flames as they coursed up his arm. Instincts shrieked in his brain to stop, to drop and roll the flames out but as soon as he did that the dry earth beneath him ate up the flames like a hungry beggar. 

The fire spread faster than one would imagine and by the time that the towering Monster had thrown the half dead man off of his back the rest of the men had mostly fled. And the smell of fire was in the air, mixing with the smell of the clouds and lightning, which all melted into the panic fueled screams of Hayseed. His rage screamed at him to kill the men but his heart moved him to Hayseed, rolling and flailing on the ground, screaming as his arms were being eaten alive by the fire.

He bent down to grab him when he felt pain pierce into his lower back. A pitchfork now stuck out of his lower back and it stung. It hurt, but regardless he still grabbed Hayseed, trying to douse the flames that licked at him. The flames burned at his hands and his own jacket but he pulled the flailing, screaming monster into his arms and turned to look at what remained of the men. Most were dead, or at least badly injured. The rest looked either ready to turn and run, or still fight, regardless.

Junkenstein’s Monster roared as lightning struck the ground right in front of him and the second the power of the skies hit the dry ground, fire was birthed instantly. It almost appeared to build an entire wall in front of the monsters who, unlike the humans who balked back with wide eyes and terror filling their hearts, turned and fled.

“Would never, would never, would never,” the Monster echoed with every labored breath of his wheezing lungs as he carried Hayseed across the dry ground as the flames ate at the trees and chewed at the bark, and leaves. The fire roared around them as the dryness of the world was encased by flames.

And then he hit the river. It was rushing and wet and wide but across its way the ground was safe. No fire, no villagers, no nothing. How deep was it? Would Hayseed fall to pieces in the water? His own fear of the water gripped at him, it gave him pause and he felt a panic. A sack over his head. His name whispered but he could barely hear it. He had died in a river. Drowned. Drowned then thrown in a shallow grave before being dug up by the man who now clung to his arms, half burned, terrified of the fire but more so by the water.

“Do you trust me, please, do you trust me,” he asked, he begged.

Hayseed swiveled his eyes, seeing the rushing water, and looking back to Hoggy he saw the flames and the thunder crackling behind him. This was it, Hell and a hard place. Or in this case, a dangerously wet place. He trembled, shivered, and nodded his head unable to find his voice. 

Hoggy hid his face against his neck, and despite the burning pain in his lower back he pushed his way into the water. It immediately hit him with all of its force, and despite his height, his weight, it pushed him. Attempting to walk over slippery stones did no good for him, and the water was swiftly over his stomach and he held Hayseed above the rushing water as fast as he could.

Then lightning hit the water and he felt the adrenaline and he heard Hayseed scream as it shot into him through the tight grasp of the monster, and the water around them. The slippery stones finally tripped him and the two creatures brought back from a death both had embraced was throw into the water. Yet the grip on Hayseed did not lessen, it held him tighter still. Nothing, no lightning, fire, or water could grip them apart.

The waterfall welcomed them as their two bodies pushed over it, and among the sounds of the storm that finally broke with rainfall that fell upon the burning forest, the two monsters were gone.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What awaits two monsters washed away? Let's find out.

"I told you from the start this was a reckless hunt." the alchemist said as she was knelt over a man nursing some pretty bad injuries. He was one of the few she could genuinely tend to; the rest, too far gone. So many dead had laid in that field, and what the fire hadn't eaten away was now left behind and it was a grissly sight. One of the worst she had ever witnessed in all her years.

"Now you've lost all these men and for what? You didn't even kill the monsters you wanted dead." she adds, shaking her head as she bandages an injured arm.

"Cease your rambling woman." a man bitterly spat. "There's dead here. Show them some respect."

"Did they deserve it in life? Throwing anger into a hunt that wouldn't end happily for anyone, please." Ana frowned as she adjusted her head scarf, tugging it over her fringe. "They were stupid men who made stupid choices and now their families are without them."

"We don't gotta take this shit from you!"

"You are correct." she knelt and picked up her bag, lifting it, and slung it over her shoulder. "I have grown tired of this town, that Lord who does nothing but sit on his throne. I should have gone the way of my associates and leave when I had the chance." Ana turned away, watching some of the younger men slowly wrapping up what was left of the dead in blankets. 

What a sorry sight.

"I take leave of this town and all it has to offer." she announced suddenly. Winter was on its way, but if she made it to the next town within the next few days she would be fine. Every town was in need of an alchemist now a days, and who knows maybe the Witch of the Wilds had moved onto it too. She did so love being a thorn in that womans side. "Good luck boys."

If they were saying anything else more to her, she didn't hear it, or even acknowledge it. The old woman walked through the woods, away from the scene she had witnessed from the darkness, knowing better than to try and get into the throng of that mess she had seen. The ferocity with both of those monsters, fighting for one another and their future no matter how short it may be together, it had been jarring to witness.

Junkenstein and his Monster were gone, now. She had seen them, toppling over that waterfall into the abyss. And it wasn't a small drop either, it was one of the biggest waterfalls in the area. If they had survived it, if they could, she hoped that the rushing water would put enough distance between them and these kinds of people.

She hoped so, at least.

~*~

The waves crashed down upon the smooth, white beach. Scattered drift wood and coral was swept along with the force of the waves, drifting along the sand and the only sound was that of the wind and the sea. A blue crab scittered its way across the white sand before it heard something, and swiftly buried itself down beneath the sand.

A brown wolf suddenly bolted out across the sand, barking loudly, a large curly tail wagging as it pounced where the crab was but was now long gone. It gave a soft, low whine as it tilted its head to the side. Then, lifting its head, the wolf sniffed at the air as something new and exciting caught its nose. Swiftly it carried itself further down the white beach to find an unconcious, massive sized monster laying face down on the beach.

His purple clothing was soaked down to the bone, his green skin soggy, and arms out stretched and grasping at the sand. The wolf tilted its head curiously to the side, before leaning closer, and gave the monster a sniff around its masked face. 

Junkensteins Monster suddenly bolted up right, sand sinking beneath his weight, and he lifted his head. "HAYSEED!"

The wolf let out a sharp yelp and jumped back, rushing back to the safety of the trees just beyond the beach, but immediately turned to look back at him. 

Hoggy barely aknowledged the wolfs existance. He looked down in his arms but found them empty. Dead heart racing within his stitched up chest he looked around, eyes wide behind his mask. "Hayseed?" he called again, staggering to his feet, barely acknowledging the pitchfork still stuck in the small of his lower back. "HAYSEED?" he screamed again, forcing his aching bones to move along the soggy beach, the wet sand clinging to his boots and pants. He could feel tears tugging at the corner of his eyes as he moved, panic beginning to fill him.

He didn't think of where the was. How he'd wound up on a beach. All he cared about was finding Hayseed. The last place he'd been was in his arms as they'd gone over the waterfall together. The memory of a fire and lightning tickled at the back of his mind but that was the past. It didn't matter now. What mattered now was Hayseed, and he was missing.

"Hayseed?" he called again, "Pl-please.."

"Are you lost?"

The young voice, genuinely, scared him. He spun around and staggered back on his feet, feeling far clumsier than he normally was on the beach. The source of the voice made itself known fast enough; a young girl, standing just beyond the trees. She wore a heavy jacket with padding and a hood that was lifted to cover her face. Brown hair peeked out from the hood and from the looks of it, the big jacket was the only thing she was wearing. Her legs, visible from the knee down, were bare and her feet muddy and covered in filth. 

"..." a human being actually talking to him was by far one of the strangest things to ever happen to him.

"Hayseed. Who's Hayseed?" she asked.

He looked away from her. This was too strange. He didn't know how to handle the situation much less answer her.

"My name's Hana." she smiled at him, even if he wasn't looking at her now. "Is Hayseed your friend? I can help you find them."

The monster looked back to the girl. "...aren't you afraid of me?" such a cliche thing to ask of someone.

She tilted her head to the side. "No?"

"...Hayseed's my best friend." Hoggy admitted. "I have to find him."

"Shouldn't we pull that pitchfork out of you first?" she asked, pointing to what was left of it. The handle had been snapped off, but the metal remained embedded in his back.

"Huh?" turning his head, the Monster finally acknowledged it. Reaching down, he grabbed the pitchfork and yanked. It came out in one swift tug before he dropped it to the ground. When he looked back, Hana was suddenly within striking distance and he immediately went on the defensive, fists raised, shoulders set. She stood there, blinking innocently. 

"Wow, you're a big guy aren't you!"

"..." he didn't know what to say to that. So he moved away from her, eyes scanning the immediate area. There wasn't any signs of Hayseed anywhere. No footsteps in the sand. Not even wet soggy straw. His panic was beginning to return, turning hot and ugly in his chest. 

"Don't worry," Hana stepped around him and began to run along the sand, the big jacket hiding her arms as she ran. "We'll find him!"

He liked her enthusiasm. Hoggy hoped it would infect him soon, though. With every second Hayseed wasn't around he could feel the weight and fear of losing him smothering itself over his entire being. What if he was hurt? What if the water had torn him to pieces? What if someone had found him and was doing horrible things to him? The panic welled in his chest and he heard a noise he'd never made escape through his lips.

A sob.

He felt wetness around his eyes that had nothing to do with the ocean water that still soaked his clothes, and for the first time in his life he was grateful for his mask in order to hide his tears. This young girl, whoever she was, she was the one anchor he had right now and if anyone were to even lay a hand on her he'd probably rip it off. Hoggy turned his head, slowly beginning to take in the visual cues of what surrounded him at last. 

The ocean stretched out before him, and in the far distance upon the horizon he could make out a storm cloud travelling a long. Bolts of lightning striking the ocean, harmless so far from land. His eyes travelled along the horizon, and he saw a land mass that was far enough away he could see it but was incapable of seeing anyone on it. Was he on an island? Another piece of land far from the mainland? Once more he wished he had a map, maybe then--

"Look what I found!" Hana had returned, a filth covered hand holding up a fist full of straw.

"Where did you find that?" he asks, frantic.

"This way!" the young girl nimbly runs up towards the tree line, vanishing into the ever green forest. Hoggy follows, pushing one tree over entirely to follow behind her. Only here, in the safety offered by the trees, does he finally see it. Straw. It was strawn around, a trail, showing just where someone possibly made of straw would stumble.

The young girl stands atop a moss covered log, pointing over the log towards more trees. "There's more there!"

She stood back, allowing the towering behemoth with green skin to rush past her. Quietly Hana observed him as he staggered along, breathing harshly through the mask he wore. Hoggy all but collapsed when he found a disembodied leg, the ankle and foot intact and the straw sticking out of it was dripping wet.

It stunk awful.

Then he heard a familiar pitiful whimper and he felt his heart race at the sound. He'd heard that sound before, normally he'd hear it when it was raining. Hayseed would lean in close to him, trying to keep dry, and he'd offer his large hand as a means of blocking out the drops of water. 

"Hayseed??" He called, frantic. 

It was only a few seconds of silence that followed but it was the longest couple of seconds in the history of Hoggy's life. 

"Hoggy?"

He followed the sound before slipping down past a fallen log down a small incline and at the bottom of the small hill was Hayseed. Missing that good leg of his, holding his right arm in his burned left as that too had grown so heavy with sea water that it had fallen off. His burlap mask was a skewed, his hair hanging down, and there were strands of straw sticking out from various places. 

His glowing eyes lit up, and he attempted to get up but he could barely sit upright. It didn't matter, seconds later Hoggy's large arms were wrapped around him, accompanied by a strangled sob that mixed with his own. 

"I was so scared," he stammered. "I couldn't f-find you--"

"I got you, I'll never leave you." Hoggy tried to sound strong and confident in his words but they trembled on his tongue regardless of his attempts at being a hero. He pulled back, a hand shifting to hold Hayseed's sorry, soggy face in his palm. "I love you."

"I love you," Hayseed echoed back shakily, having dropped his right arm to grasp at Hoggy with his one good hand. He giggled a trembling laugh of realisation as if he'd just picked up one what they had both said. "I do, I love you!"

Kissing was a new experience for both monsters. Neither had done it before, but it probably didn't help that they were kissing with their masks on. Green lips fumbled against an open, glowing grin that had no lips. But that didn't seem to bother one or the other. They held the kiss, and each other, under the canopy of green leaves. 

They were safe. 

~*~

Hayseed hummed as he ran the thread through his skin, stitching himself back together. 

"Thanks for finding me leg," he laughed. "Don't reckon getting around with one would be any fun!"

"Probably not." Hoggy replied, sitting on the beach besides the scarecrow. Turning his head he saw that the young girl was indeed still here. She hadn't run at the sight of him, nor did she react when she'd been introduced to Hayseed. If anything the smile on her face had only grown wider. 

He observed her for a second longer. 

"What's your name again?" He asked. 

"Hana!"

"You alone out here?" 

"Mm!" She nodded her head. 

Hayseed looked at her, making a confused noise. "Why you alone? Dead parents? Rich ones?"

Hana snorted, hiding her mouth behind the sleeve of the large jacket she wore. Shaking her head, she lowered her arm to speak. "My parents are dead. I was almost drowned by people on the mainland when I was small."

Hoggy grunted. "Why?"

"Because I can do this!"

Before the two monsters eyes a young girl with long brown hair and wearing a dirty coat was suddenly a brown wolf in the same coat. Ears perking forwards towards the two, Hana shook off the coat and ran off down the beach as she was stared at in stunned silence. 

There was a name for something like her, but Hoggy couldn't remember what it was. 

"Doggy!" Hayseed gasped, grabbing at Hoggy's arm and tugged. "She's a doggy, Hoggy!" He had to giggle at the rhyme. 

"Wolf." Hoggy said as Hana returned, a piece of drift wood in her mouth. "She can turn into a wolf... that's why they tried to kill her. She's a monster." He watched her drop the stick before him, eyes on the wood, then him, and back again. "No wonder you weren't afraid of us..."

"A monster? Like us!!" Hayseed said excitedly as he grabbed the driftwood. 

Hana bounced excitedly, tail wagging, eyes gleaming at the prospect of having someone to throw a stick. Hayseed, despite having never had a dog, seemed to know what to do. He threw the stick and watched the wolf race after it into the ocean, laughing loudly. 

"...so this is us now. Is it?" Hoggy asked quietly. "On an island off the mainland where nobody ever comes, where another monster lives." Turning his head he looks to Hayseed, his eyes glowing their ever present golden glow. "...is that right?"

"Yeah!" Hayseed looked to him, reaching with both hands to cup his chubby cheeks. "We're away from the mean people, I got you, got my leg back too! I like it here, it's safe!"

It was that. The island was big enough that it had fresh water, birds, and small animal living here. Enough to sustain a young wolf girl, and clearly two more monsters who didn't have to eat like she did. Lifting an arm, he helped pull Hayseed to his feet. "Walk with me."

"Okay!"

The white sand that stretched around the island had waves continually crash upon its shores. Before, the only foot prints that would stain the sand was that of a girl, sometimes a wolf. For five years it had just been her footprints left in the sand. Now though they were accompanied by large footprints, and a smaller set who only had one foot joined with a peg leg. 

The sun set, casting long stretched shadows. Three monsters, so different in size and shape, walking together on their island, their home. 

Finally, Junkensteins Monster knew peace. 

And love. 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is the end of Stitches and Straws. This story has meant the world to me, giving these two monsters a happy ending was the most important thing to do here. I didn't want to give them a cure all for their memories, for Mako and the good doctors stories and lives are over. Hayseed and Hoggy remain and they're what matters most, especially to me. 
> 
> Thank you to all my loyal readers, to every one of you who enjoyed this story.


End file.
